


Dreamless Dream

by velvetcat09



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, unrequited (?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26690545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcat09/pseuds/velvetcat09
Summary: Dreaming you is the only thing I could do.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshirou/Sakata Gintoki
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Dreamless Dream

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is from the ginhiji minifics collection, i moved it here as its own piece because i felt like it :P  
> i edited and added some more so that it worth a reread at least 
> 
> \---
> 
> the dream aspect is inspired by that ep where the yorozuya and shinsengumi woke up in an empty space, the one with toyako and lady luck/victory w/e lol

Gintoki woke up on his own volition and that became the first sign. When his eyes blinked themselves open with not much of a struggle, a feeling stirred inside him. Unknown, coiling, but didn’t feel like out of reach. The second sign was that he was alone in this entirely dark space. Déjà vu came to mind, it occurred enough times already that Gintoki didn’t feel unfamiliar with this setting. Strangely, despite being alone, there was no desire in him to call for anybody.

He sat in the black space for however long it was. It felt like time both passed and didn’t. Gintoki was not one to dwell on prolonged silence, at least not ever since his life became vibrant. The kind of place reminded too much of the past and he’d rather not. But this calmness, it didn’t drag him down.

“Sorry to make you wait.”

Gintoki faced the voice, his own was impassive in comparison to what he would usually spruce up with whenever seeing that face.

“No, it’s fine.” He stood up, walking towards the figure. The other extended their hand and Gintoki grasped it without hesitation.

They walked further into the nothingness.

Toushirou. Gintoki called him that here. This was not Hijikata, the real one has yet to be Toushirou for both of them. But this one, this figment holding his hand, guiding him through this darkness again, Gintoki felt like calling him Toushirou.

They both stopped at nowhere. Gintoki followed where Toushirou was facing, looking. The space over there slowly lightened into a setting, a diorama. Two small figures, contrasting hairs. The silver haired kid was in the middle of picking something on the ground. The raven one was crouching close to the other, before inching closer to whisper something near the silver kid’s ear. Then they broke into a hearty laughter. The smile on both their faces never left, grew brighter when the silver kid announced his little handy craft was finished. He then plopped the assorted wildflowers crown on top of the raven’s head. They both grinned at each other and it became a still photo.

A thought popped inside Gintoki’s head and he felt something was in his other hand. He looked down to it, finding the same exact crown in his grasp. He did the same thing by placing it over Toushirou’s head. They both gazed at each other.

“You look beautiful.”

Toushirou smiled. Genuinely.

They walked again, hand in hand, always.

Their second stop was somewhere in the middle of winter. Two contrasting figures yet again, this time much closer than their younger counterparts. They both sat in front of a fireplace in a cave, the glow gave distinction of how peaceful they both looked, despite the raging snowstorm outside. The raven, now with much longer locks, had his head on the silver, almost white, guy’s shoulder. The white guy’s arm was draped over the other’s waist, pulling him close. His white haori blanketing both of them. They both watched the fire danced in a comforting silence. If it wasn’t from how the fire was cackling and snow falling down outside, you’d think it was just a still picture. The raven moved to search for the other’s hand, and when he found it, they interlaced their fingers. They fitted like perfect puzzle pieces. Then it truly became a painting.

Gintoki felt a squeeze from where his hand was connected with Toushirou’s.

They walked some more and arrived at a riverbank. Toushirou sat down on the grass while Gintoki plopped down in a more casual manner, opting for a full body rest with his arms folded behind his head. It was no longer dark; the sky was as blue as he could imagine it. They enjoyed the tranquility provided by the breeze and sound from the river.

“Why do you keep showing me these?” Gintoki turned his head to face Toushirou.

“It’s fun to use your imagination, right?” Toushirou gave him a smile. Gintoki couldn’t find it in him to return it.

“What’s even the point. It’s not real.” He closed his maroon eyes, not wanting to see the blues that were gazing oh so fondly at him.

“But it’s real, you know.” His voice trailed soft. “In a way.”

Toushirou’s right. In one way and one alone.

Gintoki moved and let his head rested on Toushirou’s lap. They faced each other again and from this angle, Gintoki felt like seeing a halo over the other’s head, the sunlight playing tricks on his eyes. Though his statement still stood. Toushirou looked beautiful.

Yet Gintoki could only gaze him in pain. His hand reached up to caress that cheek. “You’re not real.”

Toushirou rested his own palm over Gintoki’s, holding it, keeping it in place. The smile stayed as well.

“I’m sorry.”

Gintoki wakes up on his own volition. Eyes opening to a familiar ceiling. He shields them from the sunlight coming through the window with his arm. There’s remnant of touch in his palm that he can’t shake off. He’s given up with the one lingering inside his chest. The pain will disappear by mid-day.

Lately, his dream is becoming more vivid.

* * *

He’s standing in a white blank space when he opened his eyes, and that’s how Hijikata knew he was back. He knew how to distinguish this blankness with the other just from one thing alone. There was never the sense of disorientation, never the grogginess of waking up abruptly, no urge to smoke his cigarette. Everything felt settled, at ease, in this place; that’s exactly how Hijikata knew.

“Welcome back.” Hijikata found himself smiling, leaning back against that broad chest that suddenly appeared behind him. Those arms would always encircle him, easily slotting himself around the gaps of Hijikata Toushirou.

“You feel like walking around today?” Gintoki—it’s Gintoki here. Hijikata freely called the man Gintoki, Gin, here. No barriers, just the two of them. Hijikata felt Gintoki kissed the back of his head.

He shuffled, turning himself around so that he could nuzzle his own face on that broad chest. No matter how hard he inhaled, how persistent he was in chasing it, Hijikata could never fully get Gintoki’s scent. Always subtle. He could never recreate it.

Hijikata shook his head, smiling at Gintoki when he looked up. “No, let’s just stay here until it’s time.”

He knew, fully aware of it, but Hijikata still drank that sight of Gintoki smiling lovingly at him. Let himself be kissed on the forehead by that smile because at this point, Hijikata was already too far gone.

“Gin,” right here, right now. He could freely call his name. He could chant it all he wants like a prayer, no one was stopping him.

“Gintoki,” the more he called, the more kisses he got. Peppered all over him, full of love.

They stayed in place and the setting behind them moved in a timelapse. The sky taking a tour, from coldness to warmth to coldness again, the passage of time explained in colors. But time didn’t move, time never moved here. This place where Hijikata unbound himself of his duty, his pride. Fully embracing his selfishness, so much so that it manifested like this.

Hijikata felt a bile in his throat, then something wet trailing his cheeks. Gintoki kissed him there too, as if kissing the tears goodbye. He always felt like crying whenever he remembered, realized, acknowledged. No one will ever see this, Hijikata always thought. So, he cried like a child, he let himself be kissed freely by this Gintoki, let the man wiped his tears away.

He didn’t feel like growing up whenever he was here.

“Does he—Am I the only one feeling this?”

Hijikata never expected Gintoki to answer, the man never did. All he got was that smile, that kiss, that love. No matter how many times he questioned it, this Gintoki would never stop apologizing.

“Bear with me out there, will you?” Gintoki kissed his cheek. “Just a little bit more.”

Hijikata wakes up with a lingering taste in his mouth. Sake mixed with tobacco, unpleasant in the morning. Last night was still very much vivid. And yet his hand already grabbing the pack of cigarettes near his futon, fingers already tapping the bottom of it to shake one stick out. He picks it up with his mouth, rummaging for the lighter next.

‘Just a little bit more.’ was already uttered five months ago.

* * *

Loving and being loved.

Hating and being hated.

They blurred for sure. This they know for certain because despite everything, the sight of the other person makes them boil for unknown reason. Perhaps known, the duality of their feelings was acknowledged a long time ago already. Denial, then.

Or insecurity.

Gintoki looked at him, gazed at him long enough, and the other interpreted it as disgust.

Hijikata stared at his back, yearn for him long enough, and the other interpreted it as annoyance.

Doesn’t help that their words are always jumbled with curses. They don’t have any common grounds, do they? Despite longing all the same when night falls, mistakes keep being made in the morning. The day keeps rolling, turning into weeks, months. It turns into a habit and what a dangerous thing it has become. When something becomes a repeated occurrence ingrained in one’s self so much, even fantasy could dissolve into reality.

Gintoki doesn’t return it; this Hijikata knows from the beginning but after seeing what the man did, went above and beyond, for him and his Shinsengumi, Hijikata’s own certainty wavered. He begins to hope.

Hijikata doesn’t return it; this Gintoki knows from the beginning but after seeing what the man did, looked for him across the country, the way he chased after his shadow on his own decision, Gintoki’s own certainty wavered. He begins to wish.

It’s dangerous to have a dream like this.

Because one way or another, a slip is bound to happen. When Gintoki unconsciously grabs for that hand and hold it tightly. When Hijikata unconsciously leans his head over that shoulder and inhales desperately. Neither said anything of the slip ups. Neither speaks anything of it.

But it’s too much for their hearts.

“I love you.”

“I hate you.”

Things like that, they blurred too much that they don’t need it anymore. Reciprocated or not, they no longer care.

Just the thought of the other alive and well is already more than enough.

As long as it is not a dream, that is enough.


End file.
